<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>all the tales we tell are tragedies by ShadowSpires</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22433269">all the tales we tell are tragedies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowSpires/pseuds/ShadowSpires'>ShadowSpires</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Countdown to Clone Wars 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, Last words, M/M, Soulmate AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:22:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>536</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22433269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowSpires/pseuds/ShadowSpires</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There are only tragic ballads about soulmates.</p><p>No matter how happily they lived, or loved, having the last words you would hear before your soulmate died imprinted on your skin was a cruelty of fate that Wolffe thought fitting for the Galaxy they lived in.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Plo Koon/CC-3636 | Wolffe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Countdown to Clone Wars 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>all the tales we tell are tragedies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>“Execute Order 66,” </em>comes the malevolent voice over Wolffe’s com. The instant scream rising in his soul dies in his throat as his muscles refuse to obey him, his hands moving to target his General’s fighter, flying before him.</p><p>Those words have run over the skin on his shoulder since his body reached puberty, appearing from inky, malevolent smears over the course of a week.</p><p>“Do you know what this means?” Wolffe’s Jedi had asked, running sad, claw-tipped fingers over the words, curled behind him in the General’s own bed.</p><p>He had been rumbling the tragic ballads of soul-mates from his people into Wolffe’s ear; of enemies who’s last words to each other were their soul-words before they both died. Of people who spent their entire lives searching, and found themselves alone in the universe when they heard their words spoken and knew their other half was gone.</p><p>There were only tragic ballads about soulmates.</p><p>No matter how happily they lived, or loved, having the last words you would hear before your soulmate died imprinted on your skin was a cruelty of fate that Wolffe thought fitting for the Galaxy they lived in. To never know if the one you loved with all your heart was the one you were supposed to be with, not until one of you died. To never know if you had even met them. To hear those words one day and know that the other half of your soul was gone.</p><p>“No,” Wolffe had replied slowly, leaning back into the touch. He’d been trying to figure that out for almost half his life. Most of the clones had some form of order as their last words. “Must be a Seppie order. It would make sense. Bly’s got the same, at least. Most of the clones with marks have some kind of battlefield talk.”</p><p>Plo had nodded. “I do not envy you this knowledge, Wolffe. I have no mark. I have always known that I will die before my soul’s mate. I only hope I am not the cause of too much grief.”</p><p>Wolffe had always known that his soulmate was likely to die on the battlefield. That he was, too, but he would have to go with the knowledge that his soul mate was already dead.</p><p>If Wolffe had known <em>this</em>, however, if Wolffe had been able to dig up what was only now crawling out of some box in his subconscious…</p><p>Damn Fate’s designs to the center of a star, he would have lunged across the room right then and driven his vibroblade into his heart, before he could be the instrument of his soulmate’s death.</p><p>There can be no doubt in him.</p><p>Those words are still ringing in his ears as Plo’s fighter explodes in a violent burst of flame, and Warthog’s voice comes across the com, emotionless and uncaring. Between one sentence and the next, his soulmate is gone.</p><p>“Commander, Seppies on your left.”</p><p>Despite the howling in his heart, Wolffe’s body responds, turning him away from the smoking wreckage of his General, his soul-mate, his Jedi’s ship.</p><p>“Let’s finish this up,” He replies, voice as emotionless as Warthog’s.</p><p>His words burn on his skin.</p><p><em>Execute Order 66</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>